Ode To A Freckle
by MadeleineM
Summary: Lily Evans has always hated her freckles. James, however, has other ideas. One shot, L/J fluff.


**A/N: My first attempt at fan fiction… please let me know what you think! It's a bit light and fluffy, but I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. It was one of those ideas I randomly had in the middle of the night, and just had an urge to write. Not sure if it's a success or not: you can be the judge of that!**

**And, of course, none of these characters belong to me, they are property of the wonderful JK Rowling.**

**Thank you for reading~ Maddie.**

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><p><em><strong>Ode to a Freckle<strong>_

If there was one aspect of Lily Evans that James loved above all else… Merlin, you didn't actually expect him to choose, did you? How could you decide whether to rate her long red hair above her emerald green eyes? How could you determine whether her luscious looking lips were more attractive than the smooth arch of her eyebrows? It was just unthinkable. However. There was one part he had a particular fondness for, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, especially not Sirius. Her freckles.

He grinned foolishly. Those were the sorts of freckles that people wrote odes about. Wait- had anyone ever written an ode to a freckle? James resolved to be the first.

He'd seen them in every light. The way that they stood out against her pale skin in the cold snow of a winter's Hogsmeade trip, the way that they clashed with her red cheeks when she blushed (a rare event) or when she was angry (usually with him). He'd likened them to the constellations whilst sprawled on the Astronomy Tower, peering up at the night sky with his telescope, he'd dreamed of tracing the patterns of them with his thumb…

All in all, it was a good job none of the Marauders were skilled at Legilimency, or he'd be mercilessly teased for the rest of his life about what a sap he was turning into. He was James Potter, the troublesome Marauder, not James Potter, lovesick puppy. It was best that he kept all of this soppiness hidden deep down inside him.

However, despite all of the various lights in which he'd seen the freckles, James had never seen them multicoloured. So, when she came into Charms, her head held high as if daring anyone to challenge her, he was more than a little surprised to see an array of technicoloured marks scattered across her face, and craned his head to get a better look. Mm. He still liked them. But why would she turn them multicoloured? It didn't make any sense…

***Earlier on***

If there was one thing in life that Lily Evans detested more than James Potter, it was undoubtedly her freckles. She loathed them, unreservedly so, and, as far as she could remember, she always had done.

It was unfair, really. Her sister, Petunia, seemed to have hogged all of the good genes to herself with her angelic blonde hair and blue eyes, her skin entirely flawless: not a freckle in sight.

It had been her second year at Hogwarts when she had really started to detest them. Before she'd just felt a minor sort of hatred towards them, but when Potter insisted on referring to her by imaginative nicknames such as Freckles, her loathing of the odious little things had grown more and more pronounced. She began to feel jealous of Metamorphmagi, who could change their appearance at will, trying every remedy in Witch Weekly and other Muggle magazines in an attempt to get rid of them. Nothing worked. Those freckles were determined little things, that was for sure.

So, she attempted spells. They all did nothing, only irritating her already sensitive skin and irritating her too, as she tried spell after spell to no avail. But then she found it. A tiny article in an old fashioned book she stumbled upon in the library when studying late at night, Lily seized the book in excitement, hurrying up to her room, clutching it to her chest, resolving to try it as soon as she woke up in the morning. So she did.

The result was instant. Transforming the freckles from pale red to multicoloured so quickly she barely had time to blink, Lily's face looked as if it had been hexed. Her trembling fingers lifted to touch one of the more ridiculous freckles: an unfortunately bright shade of lime green that reminded her of one of Petunia's favourite skirts. Oh Merlin. What had she done?

Searching through the book for the counter spell, she came up with nothing. Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. She might as well just crawl into a hole and die.

Ignoring the curious stares of her roommates as she escaped the bathroom, heading out of the dormitory with a scarf wrapped around the entirety of her face, revealing only her eyes, Lily hurried to the hospital wing. Typical. She tried to get rid of her freckles, and only exacerbated the problem. Really, what was the point?

The hospital wing was packed with people. Brilliant. She'd hoped for a peaceful place where she could find Madam Pomfrey and get her to quickly return the freckles back to their ordinary colour. Instead, there seemed to be the entirety of the first years in there, surveying her curiously. Oh dear. She'd forgotten that there'd been a recent outbreak of Dragon Pox amongst the lower years. Hence the heaving hospital wing.

Elbowing her way through giggling girls and acne riddled boys, Lily made her way towards Madam Pomfrey's office. The queue to see her was ridiculously long: there were already at least twenty people stood in line. She would never get seen and cured in time for Charms. And she couldn't miss Charms. She was bad enough at it as it was.

There was nothing for it. As the bell rang for the end of breakfast, Lily bravely unwound the scarf, tying it around her neck, and marched down the corridors with a purposeful stride, entirely ignoring the inquisitive looks she was being shot. She arrived at Charms only a little late, but, unluckily, the class had already filed in. With a deep breath, Lily pushed the door open.

She had planned on entering in Veela style: elegant, dignified, as if there was nothing at all the matter. This worked for about two seconds. Then, with all the grace of a sumo wrestler, she tripped over the handle of a bag, and fell, flat on her multicoloured face, her head banging against the leg of a table.

Ouch. Could this day get any worse?

She sat up, feeling a bit dizzy. Someone was crouched before her, rather blurry, thanks to the fact that she'd just received a fierce blow to the head. She blinked, and the person came into focus. Oh perfect. The day, it appeared, could indeed get worse. James Potter was knelt before her, taking her hands to help her up.

Flitwick looked over from his desk. 'Dear dear, Miss Evans! Is she alright, Mr Potter?'

'She looks a bit concussed,' James told him. 'Should I take her up to the hospital wing for a check, just in case?' Lily decided she didn't much like being talked about in the third person. It was a bit disconcerting.

Sirius snorted, earning him a fierce glare from James. Thankfully, Flitwick was too concerned about Lily's welfare to notice. 'Of course, of course, my dear boy. Thank you most kindly for volunteering.'

Tugging Lily to her feet, James led her out of the room, ignoring the cat calls from Sirius and Peter. As soon as they were out in the corridor, Lily shook his arm off of hers. 'Get off.'

James held his hands up. 'Alright, alright! Just trying to help.'

Lily folded her arms. 'You can leave me alone now, Potter. I don't need you coming with me to gloat at my face.'

'Gloat? Aw, Evans, why would I do something like that?'

'I know you well enough,' Lily retorted, storming up the corridor.

James raised an eyebrow. 'You do, do you?'

'Yes.' Lily turned a corner, cursing James for having such long legs: he was strolling along quite merrily, she was half running, but he was keeping up with her easily.

He grabbed her forearm. 'Look, Evans, I haven't come to gloat.' His tone was surprisingly earnest, catching Lily off guard.

'No?'

'No.'

'Oh.' Lily paused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, waiting for him to do something Marauder-ish. 'Why did you come, then?'

He shrugged. 'To see if you were okay, I guess.' He tilted his head, surveying her face curiously. 'Are the different colours a fashion statement?' he inquired.

Lily snorted. 'What do you think?' she asked, rather more viciously than she intended. 'If you must know, I attempted to spell them off of my face, but it didn't work.'

'Spell them off of your face?' James repeated, his tone incredulous. 'Why in Merlin's name would you want to do that?'

'Because I bloody hate them,' Lily said, sniffing miserably.

'Why?' James had never understood girls, but this seemed ridiculous. 'What's wrong with them?'

'They're…' Lily wasn't quite sure, now she came to think of it. 'They make me look stupid.'

James raised both eyebrows. 'Right.'

'Seriously! I'd do anything to get them off,' she protested.

James grasped her forearm, towing her into the nearest toilets, not caring that they were the female ones. 'What are you doing?' she asked, shaking him off again.

With a sigh, he lifted his wand and gave it a swift flick. One by one, the freckles soared gracefully from Lily's face, hovering in the air around the tip of his wand. She watched, spell bound, until the last of them had come off.

Turning her by the shoulders, James moved her to face the mirror. She gasped.

Her skin, porcelain white, was as flawless as actual porcelain: there wasn't a freckle in sight. She looked so… different. She could have sworn James had transfigured her face into someone else's.

'See, Lily?' James said, softly, using her first name for the first time in a long while. 'Your freckles make you you.'

Looking at herself more closely, Lily saw he was right. As much as she desperately wanted to believe otherwise, her face didn't look quite right without those odious little things. Her eyes seemed paler, her hair didn't stand out as much. She looked like Petunia did before going on a date with Vernon: a little too perfect; not quite real, thanks to her thick make up.

Turning back to James with a rueful smile, she gazed at the freckles, now circulating his head like an abstract sort of halo.

'You're right,' she murmured, reluctantly.

'I know,' he replied, with a smirk.

'Is there anyway of putting them back on?' she asked, turning back to look at her pale, freckle-less face.

James nodded. 'Good job I know where each and every one belongs, eh?' he told her, readjusting his grip on his wand.

She gave him a light shove. 'You don't!'

'Ah, but I do.'

He was terrifyingly close. Waving a freckle over, he directed it with his wand, right to the corner of her left eye. Lily was sure he didn't need to be quite this close.

'You're not putting each one on separately?' she asked, her voice low. 'Can't you just flick them all back on?'

James twisted his lips. 'Er, maybe?'

'Potter?'

'Alright, alright.' With an expert flick (how did he get so good at Charms? Lily was sure that he and the other Marauders paid barely any attention in classes), James directed the halo of freckles towards Lily's face. Soaring over, arranging themselves in a formation just in front of her face, the pale red ovals paused, hovering in the air for a few moments, then whizzing over to stick onto her skin.

James was still very close. His thumb skimmed over the now perfect freckles. 'There,' he murmured. 'Good as new.'

Lily's heart was pounding. His lips were nearing her own, hovering above her mouth. She could almost taste him, could feel his warm breath tickling the light hair brushing across her forehead. Suddenly aware that it could all go terribly wrong if she didn't do something, she pushed away, ducking under his arm.

'Thanks… James,' she called, as she strode down the corridor, back to Charms, leaving James stood there with a rather dazed smile.

That had been the beginning of a change between them. Before long, they became friends… only, friends who flirted outrageously. This couldn't help but turn into a relationship, which then turned into an engagement, which then turned into marriage.

And now? Now, James stood, leaning over the high bar of the wooden cot they'd so recently bought for Godric's Hollow, peering down at his newborn son. In the dark days surrounding them, it seemed almost impossible that this rosy cheeked little chap could exist: he truly was a bundle of joy.

Lily came up behind him, ducking under his arm to nuzzle into his side. Pressing a kiss to her forehead casually, James grinned down at her.

'Isn't he gorgeous?' Lily cooed, leaning down to pick her baby up, his little face peeking out from a bundle of blankets.

James nodded, stroking the already tousled mop of surprisingly long black hair. He went to say something, and then paused. 'There's just one thing missing,' he said, with a sly look at his wife.

'What're you talking about?' Lily protested, looking up at him from over baby Harry's head. 'He's perfect!'

James chuckled. 'All that trouble you went to, carrying him around for nine months, and you didn't even bother passing your freckles onto him?'

Lily shook her head in despair at him, wrinkling her nose, which was still, to James' delight, scattered with freckles which hadn't faded since their days at Hogwarts. 'Perhaps they'll skip a generation, and go to his grandchildren?' she commented.

James looked pensive. 'Or our next child,' he suggested, suddenly, giving Lily a cheeky look.

She laughed. 'Or that, yes.'

Putting his arms around her, Harry sandwiched cosily between them, James grinned. 'We'll be one of those elderly couples who are so in love that it embarrasses their kids, won't we, Lil?' he said. 'We'll still be in love when we're wrinkly and old and don't have any teeth. Okay? '

'Okay,' she replied, smiling. 'Okay.'

Harry opened his eyes, blearily, looking straight up at James with eyes which were exact replicas of his mother's. He gurgled.

James smiled. There were many things he loved about Lily: the fact that she'd just produced this little charmer was only another thing to add to an extensive list, in which freckles were rather a large feature. He'd never managed to write an ode to a freckle, but that was probably for the best. For a start, he was awful at poetry, but, perhaps more problematically, he didn't think he could put his feelings for Lily down into words. And, despite the dark, dark days they were experiencing at the moment, he realised something. That sort of love, the love he'd found had come to him immediately, as soon as he laid eyes upon his son, was far more important than anything else. It was something he would hold on tightly to for the rest of his life, with his new son, and Lily beside him. And her freckles, of course. He couldn't imagine life without them.


End file.
